Soliloquy
by ketamine.methanol
Summary: A demon's love is the most violent kind. Rated MA for many many reasons. Dip. Not really meant for the faint of heart.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N; NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. If not for this chapter, for others. **

**This was meant to be a two-part segment but I'm not sure if it might stretch to three or not. Oh well. I suppose I'll have to see.**

**Any religious comments or inaccuracies in this write are NOT meant to be offensive to ANYONE. I'm putting this merely in a demon's perspective. I am in no way attempted to be insulting to anyone's beliefs or anything like that, and I want to make that clear ahead of time. **

**Anyway, moving on. Just a little side project that came to me this morning in the earlier hours. I always have loved me some Dip. It wasn't supposed to turn out as sadistic as this but it seems that's the direction it's going. So you've been warned well in advance. If you don't sit well with blood or any kind of humiliation or vague torture, please, just do yourself the favour and read something else.**

**Much love~**

**Enjoy.**

---

Damien touched the blond's hands like a child first exploring the innocence of flowers, and bitterly he rolled his tongue over the horizon of a thinned cheek bone to rid the Brit's face of a salty tear. His fingers were quivering and Damien could feel the papery limbs sliding beneath him in their shyness. The wide blue eyes refused to meet his own of a dignified scarlet and he let a flicker of annoyance take to his expression as he licked his lips slowly in the silence, still with the blond's crying muted to a salty flavour on his tongue.

His hands wandered the other male's body, fingers finding each curve and bone with an unspoken elegance, or perhaps just a skill that he had never really accounted for in the past. Each of Pip's breaths were fearful and tainted with an unjust amount of innocence for a seventeen year old boy. Damien's eyes searched the blond's face for some kind of recognition but he wouldn't give it to him, his nerves clearly too high-strung as Damien impressed his palms into any section of milky flesh that he could locate beneath what would have been the two or so layers of clothing that hid the mortal's flesh with practise on a usual basis.

Damien hated Pip so much. He hated him from the first day they met as children, as anyone hated the happy-go-lucky Brit with seething ignorance. Jealousy, perhaps, of someone who could find the good in everything, when their lives were hardly so miserable. He hated Pip for being such a picture of perfection with age, and he seemed to only get prettier day by day. As he let his lips travel along the base of the other teenager's jawline, he let them run down over the Christian's jugular, ignoring the salty burn of purity on his own lips of sin. It was of no matter, because Pip wasn't going anywhere. He was silenced beyond _his_ own control, and entirely in Damien's. His hands found the other's again, becoming streaked with the maroon haze of blood from the pegs pressed through the blond's palms. Damien eyed the sacrilegious marks with a slyness, running his tongue swiftly over the pointy hedge of his eyeteeth as he pressed closer to Pip with interest.

"Where is your God now?"

The blond's eyes finally fell away from the cardinal-coloured and bluebird depictions of carefully painted history from the stained glass of the church's windows, onto the demon before him as another tear rolled over an ivory cheek. Damien only smirked at the droplet like another meal, licking his teeth again as though tempted by some kind of snack as the evanescent figure stared at him pitifully from the cross he'd been played into. Even the white silk Damien had pulled around his hips in his nudity played no contest to the British boy's skin, and it made the demon seethe.

"This is a blasphemy."

Pip's words made Damien's fingers curl and he pulled back his lips slightly, revealing pink gums as he grinned cheekily at the blond. The inverted rosary around his next left inky stains against his skin from the black ink Damien had dipped it in before setting it around the evangelic boy's throat like some kind of gift of the underworld. Which, in a whole other reality, it was.

"Pip, there is no such thing as blasphemy. I'm a demon in your church. When the folks come in for mass tomorrow, they'll have the most beautiful pet Jesus Christ they've ever seen. If you're lucky and live that long, maybe they'll even let you down before they stone you to death for being such a disgrace to their religious community."

"This isn't my fault!"

The crack in the blond's voice as he began to cry harder almost lulled Damien into a series of wheezy laughter, but he contained himself and instead rose a hand, levitating off of the ground with a tender smile as he pressed himself against the thin figure tagged to the cross at the head of the church's alter.

"You're right. What a shame it would be for you to be punished for my doings. You know how I love to piss these fuckers off."

"Let me down."

"Manners, Pip. You're in God's house."

"_Damien_!"

The shrillness in Pip's voice curled a nasty grin onto the demon's lips as he pressed his mouth into the crook of the other's neck, hands dancing eagerly in a greedy stance over his thighs.

"Damien, let me down."

"No. I like you up here."

The erratic sobs of the blond shook his frail frame with such force that Damien drew back a bit, still with a milky thigh resting in each hand, held around his waist. Pip's head fell, and he looked so terribly humiliated that Damien let his grin recede back into an unkind smile.

"Will you still come to pray to God every Sunday, Pip? Do you still think someone is up there to watch you and protect you while I strip you of your religion?"

"Let me down-"

"-If I fucked you right here against this cross, do you think-"

"-LET ME DOWN-"

"-God would forgive you of your sins? Do you think he'd send a bolt of lightning down to purge me from his house and spare you your chastity-"

"DAMIEN! DAMIEN, JESUS CHRIST LET ME DOWN!"

The shriek was ear-splitting and it only drove a howl of laughter out of the demon as he hovered away from Pip, floating a few feet back before dropping to the floor of the church with the grace of a pixie and standing in spot. Pip was still screaming at him with a level of madness only capable of someone being tortured beyond their mind's stability, and Pip was on his last limits.

Damien closed his fist slowly, and Pip awoke in a cold sweat, eyes wide and tears still fresh on his cheeks as he curled his legs within the pooling sheets of his own bed, horror shaking in his chest. A dream. A dream.

A dream.

He pressed his palms into his face, only to peel them away with a shriek caused more by shock than pain as the bloody, pierced holes in his palms burned, dripping red roses into the material of his white silken bedsheets.


	2. Chapter 2

**Fast update, but I seem to be on a roll here. And, also, I seem I was right; this will be a trilogy, though the last chapter will likely be shorter by a longshot, or at least, that's what it seems in my head right now.**

**Again, I write this with no intent of offense to anyone with strong religious beliefs. This is a work of fiction, after all. I'm not trying to stir a debate on religion with this write and that is my disclaimer.**

**Enjoy~**

---

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned."

The blond grasped his crucifix betwixt his fingers like an addict to their last clean syringe, pressing his lips to the chain anxiously as the Father answered him through the screen. Pip fell silent afterward, having had everything he had to say prepared, but now, with his hands bandaged and his throat tight, he hesitated for the first time in his life as he sat in his confession booth in silence, the world drowned out from it's walls. All of his previous aspirations of admittance left him as he choked back a sob, forgetting about how he'd not helped an elderly woman across the street earlier in that week and instead, for the first time in his life, focusing on his own problems.

"As a child I befriended a demon."

Silence from the opposite end, and he cleared his throat, before he continued.

"This demon now haunts me in ways I never imagined he would. I was a lonely child and he bid me kind despite a few small stitches in our friendship. But now he is a monster and he feeds on me, Father."

"Now, now, demons have no gender, child. They are but toys of the devil, and God's salvation can cleanse the evil. You are safe here in His house."

A sob choked the blond as he leaned forward in the confession booth, bandaged hands shaking as he gripped his rosary desperately.

"The blood you probably wiped from the alter this morning was mine, Father. He tortured me there last night. He is not Satan's toy. He is Satan's son."

---

The cold came to him like any other Saturday night, and Pip was hardly prepared for it. The creeping sensation stole his breath like nothing else in the world could, and he could already feel his weakening heart beating faster as he shut his eyes with the prayer that perhaps, just this one time, it would go away.

The hot fingers that wrapped about his wrists in contrast to the frigid temperatures of the room were biting, and he shivered even more violently, unwilling to run away.

That never worked. He'd tried.

"I heard your confession last Sunday."

Pip felt his closed eyelashes twitch, and Damien watched them do so, a twisted version of peace daunting his expression as he lowered himself over the bedsheets in a loose straddle over the small blonds figure. Pip was quivering at a humorous rate and he let his hands slide up the wrists to his bound palms, sliding a hooked nail beneath the bandages and letting them slide away from his skin as their tension burned away with the demon's touch alone. Pip let out a sigh of misted breath as his fingers curled automatically to defensively hide his wounds, but Damien flexed them back out in order to examine them as he pulled them before the blond, allowing them to stare down at the marks together.

"You said we were friends."

Pip's eyes opened in order to stare down the flickering pools a mere inch or so away from his own, and he snapped back in surprise, not even flinching as the back of his skull made a connection with the headboard. Damien searched his expression for a longer period of time before leaning closer, smirking as Pip's shoulders hitched defensively with his hands still held out before him, caged by the demons nails.

"You also denied your Father his returns. You admitted your God can't help you now. I suppose we're coming to an understanding."

Pip's face twisted in discomfort as Damien drew away, instead running a long lick over each of Pip's palms that stole a gasp of surprise from the blond's throat as his skin fused and healed, only tiny pinpricks of scars the evidence that there had ever been an injury there. Damien's powers had developed far beyond Pip's comprehension over the years, and he had found no time to ask about them. He'd been too busy trying to run away before he entirely lost his sanity to the demon's possessive tortures.

There was a long pause between them, only the resonating pound of the Brit's heart beating noisily with his anxiety audible over his own breaths. Damien didn't breathe, didn't carry a heartbeat, no circulation or flow, from what Pip understood, but that was perhaps the only thing he comprehended from the demon at all - that he was a demon, hardly human, though with a human form that was staring him down with lusty eyes so painfully close that the blond's knees lifted uncomfortably as Damien drew ever closer.

The course palms of the demon slide under him, tearing away the covers as Pip choked back a soft scream that had been lingering on his tongue for some time. The fiery opticals of the other male revealed themselves easily despite the rest of his careful blend with the inky blackness of the surrounding room, though they dimmed as his lids fell to a half-close, lips finally making their comfortable mark against Pip's throat. The blond leaned his head back, body still receding into itself as he glanced to the side, to the door of his lonely apartment's bedroom as though someone might burst through it in that moment to come to his rescue, but he had about as many friends now as he had had when he was a child, and that was a complimenting zero aside from Butters Stotch, who had suspiciously disappeared a week or so after Damien's return.

The demon's mouth moved lower, sharpened teeth teasing the blond's skin and raising panicked sighs in his chest, completely aware of what was going to happen but feeling it would be painfully pointless to attempt to defend himself. Lifting his hands to wipe silent tears from his eyes, his gasp escalated into another quiet scream as Damien grabbed his hands back roughly, drawing the Brit's slender fingers into his mouth and licking them clean, before letting his tongue run over the blond's face.

"Don't wipe them. You know I like them. It's a flavour I can taste in your world."

His mouth moved to the pink lips of the other being's, curved into a fearful pout, taking them finally at his own leisure. Pip was hardly appreciative of the gesture but was really surprised that they didn't hold as much chapping or roughness that he imagined they would as the demon pryed his mouth open to play beyond the barrier of his teeth with his tongue, like curious playmates in elementary. Pip's sighs and gasps only escalated with his fear as he felt the familiar hot hands slide over his torso, sending his mind into a dizzy swirl of spots and static. Damien's lips drifted from his own to return to their previous journey without a moment's hesitation, leaving the blond to stare past the kept black sweep of hair on top of the other male's head as the demon gripped his bare thighs and threw Pip's legs over his shoulders.

The blond's body was enticing, a flicker of white against pale bedsheets still stained with the browning dry droplets of blood that had fallen into them in the previous weekend's events. Damien licked his lips with an unquenchable thirst as he played his mouth against the inside of the Brit's thighs, the corner of his eye suited to capture the uncomfortable and uncertain twists in Pip's expressions as he struggled for self control that Damien knew he lacked. The corners of his mouth pinching into a dainty smirk, however, the demon allowed his hands to find a path to the blond's stomach with precision and interest, gliding up the landscape of his body toward the cross on a chain slathered over his collarbone. There was a hiss and a sizzle as he gripped it with his palm, Pip's eyes widening at the flicker in the demon's expression in wonder of perhaps the pendant doing some damage, but his face averted back into silent terror as the rosary fell back to his chest in the smudgable form of ash.

The demon's head dipped slowly forward against the pale chest of the Brit, then, nursing a nipple gently between his lips and driving a shocked breath from Pip's core. Damien was at least pleased to see his work going to good use, letting the Brit's legs slide down around him as he lifted a finger slowly, pressing it to the other's sternum and drawing a slow circle over Pip's skin with the remains of the burnt rosary, the shape of a hanging star centered within it. Pip could do little more than widen his eyes as he stared down at the common sign of Satan drawn against his flesh, tears darting to his eyes more as the lips of the Anti-Christ himself made sure to taste every section of the mortal's body, leaving kisses behind that sent the seventeen year old's mind reeling with absent protest as he rose his hands vainly, attempting to press Damien away.

His resistance was hardly felt by the firm form of the demon as he shifted his shoulders, bringing his hips into a slow grind on his fixation. Feeling lost and dizzy with the erotic gestures Pip felt the fight in him die as quickly as it had after the first few times he'd attempted to resist the black-haired male's advances, leading a blind hand to curl in the material of the black satin shirt hiding Damien's torso. A quiet growl slid from the male's lips, staring down Pip's numbly sliding eyes as he fought through the cloud of pleasure and discomfort, mind clearly trying to find some salvation in another location that was hidden from Damien's prying eyes.

This frustrated the demon, and he let his hands slide away from Pip's body, instead to cup his face with a fury uprooting the glow of his eyes as he stared into the misted blue ones of the blond beneath him. Something of an ache within Damien told him Pip was lost somewhere in this haze, trying desperately to escape his despair. The demon's lips curled slightly as his own dark lashes fluttered, only further pressed by the possessive victory as he felt the life force drip from Pip like a spilt beverage, pressing his lips to the pale Brit's jugular.

"Say you love me."

Pip remained irresponsive, and anger flickered through the demon's expression as he allowed the male's hands to slide away limply to the bed. The demon's fury continued to brew as he pressed his mouth in every direction, trying to find a spot that would bring his pet back to life with a sickened obsession that had his rag doll pressed against him with both arms tightly.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N; Wow... I guess I lied a little about this being the shortest section. I don't know. Anyway, **_**this is what majority of this fic's warnings were for **_**- this chapter. I was kind of hoping things would come together here, but re-reading it a few times I'm not sure if it makes even less sense or not... oh well. If you don't like it, just backtrack to chapter one and pretend this was a one-shot.**

**Sorry for any errors, spelling or grammar-wise. It's really early in the morning, and I've screened this best I could.**

**Enjoy (hopefully).**

---

"Pip..."

There was a batter of eyelashes, a vague dilation of the pupils.

"Pip."

The British male's drying lips parted slightly, and Damien felt an unnecessary breath slide out of him as he let his own mouth hover against Pip's, soft and inhuman with velvety texture. Pip's brief disembodiment had been a frightful one, for Damien at least. To let his soul slip away... well, that would have been a waste. He laced his arms around the Brit's waist for security, as though Pip might slip away for good this time. Where he was aware that Pip was slowly starting to lose his mind at Damien's expense, he cared for Pip's sanity about as much as he did for Jesus' birthday. Instead, Damien tested his tongue against the blond's mouth, pleased to find at least a half-hearted response as the Brit's lips came apart willingly, though from them came his voice, cracked and broken, instead of the affections Damien had hoped for.

"What did you do to me? _Why _are you doing this to me?"

Damien became blissfully aware of the delicate being in his arms then, laughing with a solicited bitterness in his tone as he ran his hands down the smooth landscape of the blond's bare back, cupping a moon-like cheek of Pip's rear in each palm and hitching the teenager up to his knees above him. Pip didn't move to wonder when Damien's trousers had come undone, or when he'd produced the tube of fluid in his palm, or when Damien's shirt had come undone, or when Pip's bedroom had peeled away into some other space or time, where the walls were dark and the world reached into him in the form of a dull scarlet. Pip's eyes breached the familiar sheets of his bed though, wondering if perhaps Damien had him half-lodged in hell mentally, or if the entire thing was an illusion. His home seemed far away, and his head lost the connectivity he felt he needed.

"I killed you. Because I need you."

Pip stared at him through teased, half-closed eyes that looked more like they were a ghost of something once lively as the glaze in them burned with a type of contempt that Damien had hardly expected from the blond. The Catholic boy's will was clearly too diminished to take any serious fight, however, and he slumped against Damien like a dying lover, lips slightly parted in a dramatic resemblance of a perplexed china doll. The demon's teeth left possessive marks against the blond's pale shoulders, and he grinned, pleased with the way Pip flinched away from him. He would have been highly disappointed if Pip had been a masochist; after all, there was no fun being a sadist if your pet enjoyed the tortures they were forced to endure.

On that note, the dark-haired male gripped Pip's hips and slammed him down, pegging him on his slick cock without warning.

The blond's mouth hung open in agony, eyes wide and tears jumping down his cheeks in a race to see which would sizzle against Damien's skin the fastest, but his voice was entirely lost to the breath that choked his scream. He twitched a few times, shoulders hitching forward as he fought with the pain condemning his backside, before finally a bloody cry escaped him into Damien's shoulder. The demon raked his fingertips down the boy's back and ass, peeling his cheeks apart in order to slide in deeper. Pip's shuddering cries only heightened in volume as he dragged his fingers into the blankets, sobbing messily into the demon's shoulder at the violation of his own rear.

Damien hated Pip, but with that hatred came an admiration for how he always resisted hurting someone, even when his own body was at stake. That admiration had at some point turned to an obsession, and then later, a realization that made everything come to sense. His father had told him, that each demon would find that one person that would stabilize their existence... and he had chosen Pip that day back when the Brit had freshly moved to America in the third grade.

The demon's grin only widened, pressing his mouth traditionally to the side of Pip's face in order to slip his tongue out and once more taste the bitterness of the blond's tears as his sobbing continued. Damien's hands lifted; his fingertips made their mission over the curves of the blond's back, gripping his shoulder blades securely in order to ensure his sex was within the other male to the hilt before he bit the other male's throat slowly, groaning at their unity.

"Let them out, Pip."

Pip slid a wet cheek against Damien's collarbone, shoulders shaking as he fought with the better of his senses, which were all scrambled with a one-sided mental argument he had no say in. He took another few breaths as Damien's palms pressed more firmly against his shoulder blades, before wings rolled away from the seventeen year old's body. Damien stared on at them with dancing red eyes, his dog-like grin lost against Pip's flesh as he reached his hands out to rake his fingertips through the fluorescent white feathers with obsession in his eyes glinting far beyond any healthy kind of need. Pip continued to quiver against him, drunk and confused by the new weight of his body as his world flickered and faded beyond his vision.

Things were making less and less sense to Pip, but more and more all at the same time as he flexed the plumes extended from his back and rolled his spine backward to tilt his head back to the dark space above him. The scent of ash filled his nostrils and he let his eyes sink around him as Damien's hands re-casted their journey down his body, caressing his behind and then throwing the angel back down against the now black bedsheets of Damien's haven. He kissed Pip, still burrowed within the angel as he stole his flavour with his mouth.

"You were the purest one. The only purest one. Not even a Mormon could become what you are. You aren't a messenger of God, now, though, Pip. You're all mine now."

Pip's vision swam as Damien drew out of him and then thrust back in with much more care than his initial invasion, driving an intoxicated moan from the blond's lips as the demon lead an extended nail to Pip's chest over his heart, tracing the clawed appendage in said shape before he seized a wing and ripped out a glowing feather.

"Feel _fury_."

Pip's cry did the emotion justice as his shrill scream echoed off of the walls of Damien's room, his thrusts even and hastening. He tugged out another.

"_Envy _my power over you."

And another.

"_Swallow _me whole like the good bitch you are."

More tears suited his tongue as he fucked Pip harder, sending the blond's mind into a downward spiral of mixed feelings teetering from pleasure to pain.

"Take me _greedily_, be _proud _you're my slave..."

A few more feathers to make his collection five.

"_Submit _to me, want nothing..."

Pip's cries had evened out into well-fucked moans, his head lulled back against the inky sheets and his fingers curling into the fabric as Damien plunged into him harder. The tips of his wings peeled away their white sheath to reveal an ebony plume in their place, the feathers turning black and curled as though they were paper exposed to an open flame. Pip's breaths skipped and jumped, Damien's name on his lips, begging for more as he pawed at all of Damien's being with growing necessity. The demon hovered over the mouth of his vessel of deadly sins, pressing his lips against the blond's as he plucked his last feather.

"_Want _nothing but _me_."

Pip came with the sacrifice of his chastity, and Damien was soon to follow, the hues of the angel's feathers dimming out into total blackness as the blond panted beneath him. Damien laid against him for some time, before he felt Pip's thin hands wandering around his body, curling about him as the demon pulled out and lifted his pet from the bedspread. Pip's blue eyes flickered, his past life completely lost as his legs twitched around Damien's waist, allowing himself to be pulled under a black curtain of sheets as the demon continued to explore his body feverishly with his hands. Pip hand-fed him the seven feather's one by one with his face nuzzled against the demon's collarbone, and Damien accepted them gratefully.

"Today marks your eighteenth birthday at last. You're mine forever now, Pip."

He pressed his lips against Pip's keenly with an intruding tongue, before licking his teeth in satisfaction of the Brit's flavour.

"You're my fallen angel."


End file.
